After
by DemonicK
Summary: Oneshot, M for language. Aftermath of 10.18. Church does some reflection and doesn't like what he sees. So now, he has a request for Carolina...


Amazing how long a trip can seem when you've just fucked up everything left in your miserable little life.

He snorted. He _would_ have snorted. If he had lungs. Or a face. Or if there was anything remotely real about him at all.

He wanted to convulse, to scream in self-loathing, but the only way to do that would be to reactivate the holographic projector. Reappear to Carolina. But if he chose to do that, to show what he was feeling, then it would just be him putting on a display— one big farce, one more thing about him that was fake. He didn't have the privilege of instinct or reacting without being able to help himself or anything so _human_. He was a computer program, after all, every second of his existence under complete control.

_So how the hell did everything just go completely fucking nuts?_

Another benefit of being a computer program. He couldn't forget. Couldn't space out. Couldn't even pretend to space out. He knew exactly what he was.

No more pretending.

"Church."

Carolina's voice was insistent, yet strained. That was more or less how it always was now. As a resident of her armor's AI slot, he had access to her vitals and other information that could reveal more on her situation. He ignored it all.

He didn't really want to talk to Carolina. See, Church thought he had it all figured out; they understood each other exactly. Both had had their lives upended— destroyed— by the Director and his pet project. They were going to tear it all down.

Except they didn't understand each other at all. Well, they hadn't at least… Church had all of his friends, his old life, waiting there just beyond the periphery once all of this was over. Carolina had nothing, _nothing_ but revenge and madness.

Church figured he was starting to understand _that_ right about now. After all, he had just destroyed every meaningful relationship he had left. Burned every bridge and flipped off the suckers on the other side. At least with Carolina, it wasn't entirely _her_ fault— this nightmare had been dumped on her by Project Freelancer. Church had nobody to blame but himself.

Finally, his image flickered back into life, hovering over Carolina's shoulder. He was a little surprised to realize that they were no where near Valhalla anymore.

"There you are. I thought you were going to spend the whole trip sulking," she griped, shifting her hands on the grip of her weapon.

_No, she doesn't understand_, he thought, still silent. Not anymore. Wash did, though. Wash, who had every right to feel the same hatred and bitterness that Carolina did— hell that _Church_ did, after all, he'd experienced the same tortured memories— had decided that his fellow soldiers were more important than revenge.

Wash hadn't hesitated, not even for a moment. As soon as Carolina's gun was up, so was his.

Church hadn't said a word.

As much as he wanted to hate Washington, Church really wished he was more like him right now. How had he ever been mad at Wash for replacing him? If Wash had really been Church's 'replacement', the team would be miserable right now, lacking leadership, and still being forced along on this mission.

_Wash_ was the teammate they deserved. Church was the asshole who kept dragging them into this shit.

Carolina was getting ready to rail at Church again for staying quiet; what was the point in reappearing if he wasn't going to communicate with her? They had a mission to complete, and if he wasn't going to be an asset, he was a liability. Better to stay out of the way if he wasn't able to handle it.

But then, he broke his silence. The voice wasn't the same one from the holographic projection room, though; it was hesitant, lacking confidence. "…Carolina?"

Carolina bit back a sarcastic remark. It was difficult, though; she needed Church at the top of his game. Since the rest of the toy-soldiers had backed out like the cowards and failures they were, he was her only back up. She didn't know why she expected something more out of them, but Church knew the stakes.

She didn't have any pity left in her, not after all these years. But, she did have a grudging respect for Epsilon— for Church— and so instead, she responded neutrally. "Go ahead."

"I…" Was he really going to ask her this? No, don't back out on this now. _Don't be the coward you've always been._ "I need you to do something for me. Uh… once this is all over, I mean."

Carolina cast a sidelong look at the AI, whose image was dim. Far cry from the colossal red avatar he had displayed before. She counted him as a teammate for now, but it didn't mean she trusted him. She knew better. "What?"

Church cursed mentally. She wasn't making this any easier, with her emotionless tone and curt, clipped responses. Suddenly, he cut his avatar. He couldn't do this out here.

Carolina was about to swear herself, when she heard the click and static of her helmet radio. Before she could ask what the hell he was doing, Church continued, voice still subdued.

"When we're done… after we've killed the Director…

"I want you to destroy me."

It wasn't just self-loathing this time, but shame. So ashamed that he couldn't even say it out loud, even when there was no one else to hear. Because asking _that_ was admitting to Carolina— and to himself— who was really to blame here.

Carolina's steps slowed, until she was standing motionless. Her frame became rigid. She didn't respond, though, and Church found himself blurting out more without thinking.

"I mean, I'm the whole cause of this. Me, or… parts of me. _All_ of me. _Argh!_" His avatar flickered on again, pulling away from Carolina, as though he could put distance between them and be alone.

"…I'm the reason they keep getting pulled into this," he murmured all of a sudden. "It all centers around _me_. Freelancer, the rogue AIs, the Meta… And now the Director. Even if we kill him, is it going to end?"

By now, he wasn't even talking to her. He was musing out loud, and his voice was rich with hurt and shame and hate. "Even if it _did_ end, how could I go back to them? Like everything is going to be okay? Even if I _hadn't_ just acted like the hugest dick in the universe…" Church wished he had a body, a body that would express itself just in response to his emotions, all on its own, without him having to _make_ those expressions appear in some projected image. He sighed, and carried on. "Let's face it. They don't need me. Shit, I don't think they'd even _want_ me. I've never done anything for them except bring trouble and make their lives hell."

He laughed sourly. "Why should that surprise me, though? Look at the source." His avatar turned to look back at Carolina. "I came from _him_. And now I _know_, I _remember_ everything he did. Who he _was_… Who _I_ am," Church added, his words dripping with resentment.

He shook his holographic head. Maybe the action wasn't real, but he _needed_ to be able to express what he was feeling right now, and talking just wasn't enough. He doubted anything was enough. There was just too much, all roiled up in layers and chaotic storms and twisted together… Anger and hate and betrayal and shame… and regret.

The realization caused him to deflate in an instant. "Who I am? More like _what_ I am. I'm a walking god-damned _curse_." His image flickered. "If I ever cared about them at all, even the slightest bit? I'd just stay the fuck away."

The silence between them stretched uncomfortably. Church turned his avatar back towards Carolina. Something wasn't right. She wasn't tense, she was… guarded.

The realization clicked and he let out a bitter bark of laughter.

"_Oh!_ Of course… Of fucking _course!_" His avatar disappeared and reappeared right in front of her. "You were already _planning_ on it."

"Church," she started, voice cautiously level.

He laughed again, voice strained and pitching high, and his avatar flickered faster, agitation showing. "Why the fuck not, right? You want to kill the Director, after all. _All_ of him, including the leftovers—"

This time, it came out as a rebuke: "_Church!_"

"Oh, why even bother to _pretend_, Carolina," he snapped back. "You're not denying it, are you? And why should you? I mean, _he's_ not dead until I am, not really. I'm his fucking _legacy_." His words were acidic, like he was so disgusted he could barely get them out. "And you're taking the whole damn project down…" His voice trailed off, anger dissipating into nothing but a hollow bitterness, as his avatar drifted back. "We can't leave the job half finished."

Carolina said nothing for a long time; if the silence before had been uncomfortable, this one was downright hostile. She chose her next words carefully. "…Church. Believe me when I say this… you are _nothing_ like him."

Church didn't turn to face her. "Yeah, whatever," he muttered, obviously not believing it. His image did fade out though, returning his consciousness fully to her armor. The next words he said were delivered over her helmet radio.

"Look, let's just finish it... and then we can _both_ get what we want out of this."

Carolina had no response for that. Part of her— a small part— felt uneasy with what Church was saying… but she hadn't listened to that part of herself for a long time. Right now, all she needed was his cooperation, and she was going to have it. Whatever other issues the AI had weren't her problem. She only had one objective, and she couldn't let anything get in the way of it— _anything_.

_You should appreciate my position_, she thought ruefully, with a dark smile. _You were the one who taught me that the mission was everything_.

And whatever else was wrong with Church, he had one thing absolutely right:

They still had a mission to finish.


End file.
